Lonely
by Woffreen
Summary: 2D is having a bad day, but it looks like little Noodle wants to fix that. / Gorillaz Phase 1, One shot, bonding b/w Noodle and 2D. / Rated T for slight language.


_**A.N.::** First fic that I'm submitting here. Yayyy._

_So, obviously, this is a Gorillaz fic. This takes place during Gorillaz Phase 1 - So Noodle is around 10-12 years of age, and 2D is.. 22-25? This is mainly just a little bonding between the two, and I think it's kind of cute._

_Sorry if things are a little non-canon - I keep trying to find some big official summary of the whole entire Gorillaz story, but I'm not having any luck. If someone could refer me, I'd appreciate it. But I tried to stick to the characters as much as I could. Though I admit, I made Noods a lil too.. childish, lawl. Oh, and remember, Noodle doesn't know much English during this time, so that's why her lines are a bit broken. And typing with 2D's cockney accent is harrrrd.  
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_Anyway, enough of my drabble. Read as you please, review if you really want to. Enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: 2D / Noodle / Gorillaz belong to Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett and all those other awesome people. I only own the story.**

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><p><strong><span>Lonely<span>  
><strong>

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><p>Not <em>again.<em>

The singer groaned openly, rubbing his eyes drowsily as if the action would ease the pain. He could feel yet another migraine coming on, and all it did was piss him off. 2D was having a particularly bad day today. His thoughts were riddled with memories of what felt like not long at all ago, when Paula was still in the band. As much as he hated to admit, he missed the damn slut. He can't recall having any other serious relationship after they split, and so the singer concluded that he was simply feeling lonely.

He rolled over in his bed – which he had left only twice that day – and grabbed at his bottle of painkillers. He grunted in annoyance when he shook it, finding it was empty, and after groggily searching through the drawer of his nightstand, he concluded that he was completely out – well, in that room, anyway. Because his migraines would occur at random, but often, times, he would scatter his bottles around the building – not only for convenience, but because the man was sloppy and unorganized like that. 2D was sure there was a bottle in the kitchen, but he was in no mood to get up at all. Rather, he rolled back onto his back and stared at his wall, not entirely noting the fact that his empty pill bottle was still in his hand.

He studied the dark colored room, finding that his black gaze was shifting around and absently focusing on random points. He surveyed the multiple models of keyboards, and then stared at the demo of his game pong – which would run almost all the time when he wasn't playing it – before then studying a few photos on his walls. As if it was a magnet effect or something, 2D's headache throbbed even more when he focused on a framed photo of himself and Paula. He frowned, taking a while to register in his mind what he was looking at. Once he realized it, anger washed over him. While he recalled loving that picture at the time, he could see it all clearly now; in the photo he looked so happy, so oblivious – while the woman next to him looked like a whore. And damn, was she a whore. Clenching his fists and noticing the bottle was in his hand still, 2D hurled it at the photo, hitting it straight in the middle with enough force to crack the glass into quite a few pieces.

Satisfied, 2D laid his head back and studied the ceiling. It wasn't long before the bluenette noticed his headache had gotten really bad. So bad even, that he let out an instinctive groan and planted his hands on his face in pain. After concluding it would be for the best, he forced himself to roll over and get up from his bed. The singer absently noted that he should probably throw a shirt on – he only wore a pair of blue jeans, and he didn't even have shoes on – but he was not in the mood to care who saw him or not. He stumbled for the door, one hand held out to support his sleep-weakened figure, the other still pressed against his face.

He shuffled through the car park, down the corridor and into the main lobby, where the lift was located. He pressed the button to call it and leaned against the wall to wait for the slow thing to make its way.

He tried to push Paula out of his mind and focus on other thoughts. 2D was never one to be in a bad mood unless openly provoked by Murdoc. Hell, he wasn't one to really think anyway – but he could not shake the guitarist off his mind, and of course all of that thinking obviously is the source of his headache. Well, if he was so lonely, maybe he should take a small break from the band and go out to a bar to meet more women. But he just sighed at the thought. Really, he wasn't alone the entire time after the situation with Paula; there were always the random groupies and tramps he would meet when he was drunk at a party. But those weren't ever anything special, as shallow as it sounds. No, what 2D wanted was a real girl, who he can date for a while. He let out another sigh when the lift finally arrived and, with slight hesitation, he stepped in and pressed the button for the first floor.

A few minutes later he was walking into the kitchen, the stench of rotting food and spoiled milk already familiar to the singer. He searched through some of the drawers built into the counters, trying to find any trace of his migraine medication.

With a small 'ah-hah!' of success, he finally found a bottle, and by shaking it he concluded there was still some left. He set it on the counter next to the sink and, after grabbing an empty – and luckily, relatively clean – glass, he poured himself some water, popped about four pills, and took a few gulps of his drink.

He hunched over and leaned against the counter, staring at the still running water in the sink. After a moment's pause, he cupped a handful and splashed it on his face, rubbing in the refreshing cold. His migraine had started to subside slightly, but poor 2D's mind was still fixed on Paula.

The sudden sound of the kitchen door slamming open made 2D jump. Automatically, he thought it was Murdoc, coming in to yell at him about God-knows-what, and, because his memories of Paula included Murdoc as one of the instigators, 2D did _not_ want to see the bassist one bit.

With a grunt, he turned off the sink and looked over his shoulder, but to his surprise, no one stood there. Tilting his head, 2D stepped over and glanced out of the frame, looking both left and right to scan up and down the hallway. No one was there. He scratched his head in confusion before turning back around.

In a sudden, swift movement, the singer let out a yelp as he felt something grab his arm and tug him down. He almost tumbled over, but he luckily maintained his balance.

Looking at what had his arm, he made eye contact with the little green gaze of Noodle. The small girl was repeatedly tugging his arm, her mouth curved into a huge smile and her eyes shining with delight.

"Got Toochi-kun!" she giggled, hopping a little. "I got Toochi-kun!"

2D did nothing but stare blankly at the girl, trying to contemplate what she meant in his slow, aching mind. Noodle stopped jumping around and frowned, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Noodle kill Toochi?" She asked, her hand frantically trying to get his attention. His mind registered finally, and 2D shook his head. "Noods!" he exclaimed."Yew scah'ed meh!"

The girl only replied with another giggle, jumping up and down again. 2D couldn't help but feel warm at the child's enthusiasm. She was always like this. Always in a good mood. He wished he could share her optimism at life. I mean, she was seemingly an orphan, being raised by a band of misfits in a country with a language she can barely share. Their 'home', so-to-speak, was a landfill, haunted by ghosts and zombies, and not to mention the endless stench. But she was always happy. He let out a sigh. _Why can't I always be like that?_

Again the girl ceased her little hopping fit and released his arm, to which he stood back up straight. "Is 2D-kun okie?" Noodle asked, looking up at the towering man. He realized that he must have come off as annoyed or something, and he immediately forced a smile.

"Yeh," he lied, "I'm fine." To avoid the kid's gaze, he walked past her and back to the sink to shut off the tap, which was still running from when he washed his face. He glanced over his shoulder involuntarily, wanting to know if Noodle was still there. Of course, she was, and she was still looking up at him, not convinced that he was, indeed, all right. He looked back, staring out the window.

"Toochi-kun upset," she persisted, padding over and tugging on his belt loop to punctuate her curiosity. 2D looked down at her; her bottom lip was now hanging out, obviously crestfallen at the fact that her friend was anything less than as happy as she was. 2D sighed and petted her head. "It's fine, Noodle-luv," he insisted. "I go' a 'eadache, s'all. Nuffin' yew need ta worry 'bout."

"Headache?" she echoed. "Eat pills?"

"Yah, ulready did."

"Why headache?" she went on, tilting her little purple head in confusion. 2D sighed. "Go' stuff on me mind, s'all, love," he said, trying to make his voice a bit happier. Normally the Japanese guitarist would get him in a better mood, but not today, seeing as though she replaced the very person who was haunting his mind. He turned away and headed out of the kitchen, murmuring a 'good-bye' to her as he did so. He had intentions of going back to his room and trying to sleep away the little lingering pains. He didn't want to be a downer for the small happy girl either; he figured she'd be better off bothering Russel or something.

He made it to his room and crashed onto his bed, stomach first, face buried into his pillow. His headache was mostly gone, but his thoughts of Paula weren't. Damn whore. Damn whore, damn Murdoc, damn obliviousness, damn migraine – damn everything. He groaned, feeling spikes of ache here and there, and again attempted to calm his mind. He hummed along to the melody of the first song to come into his mind: Latin Simone. Music always helped him relax.

And it was starting to work. Sure, he thought of Paula still, but just flashes. He mainly focused on keeping the correct key with his soft humming of the song.

Not even ten minutes had passed, however, when he heard his door open. Turning his head, cheek resting on the pillow to where he could see the entrance without moving, he saw Noodle once again. She held what seemed to be a sheet of paper in her small hands, and she wore her little smile.

"Toochi-kun," she greeted, padding over to his bed with a bit of a skip in her step. 2D, trying to not show annoyance caused by his exhaustion, rolled over and sat up, crossing his legs. "'Ello, again, lil'luv," he muttered, rubbing one of his eyes. "Whuh's thah' yew go' theah?"

The Asian hesitated before holding it out to him. 2D grabbed it and turned it to where he could see that it was a crayon drawing of what looked to be himself, smiling adorably. Even in the child's picture, he could see that Noodle made sure to include his funny looking teeth, which he recalled to be a trait that the small girl would like to giggle about when she first met him.

He glanced up at Noodle. "Is 'is me?" he asked, and the girl, who was smiling bigger this time, nodded eagerly in reply. "I draw 2D-kun!" She explained, pointing at the picture. "Happy 2D-kun! See?"

Anyone would be insane to not feel warm at the kid's gesture. And really, seeing this just made the singer feel ten times better. 2D let himself bare his teeth – well, what he had – into his signature grin, and reached over to pet Noodle's head. "Fanks, love!" He said. "S'real sweet of yew, I love ih'!"

Noodle giggled with a little hop. She took the picture back and, glancing around, pranced over to his wall where most of his photos were. She held it up to the wall, obviously with the intent of hanging it there, but realized a little belatedly that she had nothing to tack it to. Though, when she lowered the picture, she saw the shattered glass of the photo of 2D and Paula.

2D noticed this, and slightly hoped the young musician wouldn't take much note. He recalled being drunk once and ranting to Noodle about how much of a skank Paula was, and his main worry at the moment was the girl recalling the term. To his slight dismay, Noodle turned to give him a confused look.

"Pauwa?" she asked, to which 2D was forced to nod, though it was not without hesitation. She looked back to the photo, and after a pause, 2D heard the girl say, "Pauwa's ugly."

2D couldn't help but laugh softly for a moment, before letting out another sorrowful breath. Noodle noticed this, and she turned back to 2D with a tilt of her head. With a small pause, she guessed, "Does Toochi miss Pauwa?"

2D nodded slowly. "Sor' of. 'M lonely, s'all." The admission brought a bit of pain back from his migraine, but he simply ignored it.

"Lonely?" Noodle echoed. She tossed the word around in her mind a bit, trying to remember the translation. "Lonely!" She exclaimed as she recalled. She hopped over and onto his bed, grabbing his arm. "Don't be lonely! Toochi-kun has Noodle! You don't need Pauwa!" And with that she released his arm and nestled closer, wrapping her arms around his torso in a hug.

2D glanced at Noodle with a bit of surprise, his arm held up as if he was confused about touching her, but the girl did not let go. She just hugged him affectionately. Finally 2D smiled warmly, and rested his arm around her. The small child was so sweet, so adorable. He felt his sadness from earlier begin to fade away – finally – and he patted Noodle's head with his free hand. She looked up at him, green eyes sparkling happily. "2D-kun lonely anymore?" she asked innocently.

"Nah," he said. "I got me lil'luv right heah."

Satisfied, Noodle squeaked and rested her head against her brother-like figure once more. 2D glanced over at his wall, concluding that he'd hang up Noodle's little drawing in place of the now broken photo.

Nope, he didn't need anyone. He had his little Noodle.


End file.
